walking on a wire through the fear
by ninjaextraordinaire
Summary: matt/rebekah. "Matt groans. How is it possible that she's the one that drove him off a bridge into the nearest encounter with death he's ever had, and he's the one who wants to apologize?"


**a/n**: to be simply put, i want these two together. don't care if he'd never be with a vampire, don't care if she drove him off the bridge. potential. they gots it. very rushed, but whatevs. story title comes from _sooner or later_ by mat kearney.

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**walking on a wire through the fear**

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"Matt Donovan's room number?"

The receptionist's pupils immediately dilate. "401."

"The status of the patient?"

"Stable," the elder woman replies in monotone, and Rebekah lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

She reaches Matt's room and her hand looms over the handle for a millisecond before she allows herself in. The sound of the heartbeat monitor resonates off the walls and makes her shiver. Before she can second-guess her decision and let Elijah's words take effect_—enough Rebekah, don't you think you've caused that boy enough trouble already?—_she spots him.

His skin looks so ashen against the stark white of the hospital sheets and she ignores the remorse tugging at her undead heart. Gathering up courage, she walks over to the side of his bed. Rebekah can't help but notice how the absence of someone to watch over him is so prominent.

"Figures," she scoffs. "They're all with Elena."

She tentatively reaches out her finger and lets it gently glide over his jaw. His eyes open and she abruptly pulls away, the disgust evident on his features stinging like a slap to the face.

"How're you feeling?" At his silence, she nods, raising a dubious eyebrow. Her eyes scrutinize every detail of his face, and she wants to swallow down the feeling of relief she gets when she sees the color of his eyes_—_bluer than the seven seas. "Alright, I probably deserve that."

"_Get out_," he bites through clenched teeth.

She laughs, and Matt can't help but notice through the haze of the medication that the sound holds no hint of humor. "Can you really tell me you wouldn't have done as I did?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "If the only thing standing in the way of your safety_—_of _Vicki's_ safety___—_would you really have let her live?"

Matt's hands ball into fists until his knuckles turn white and Rebekah smirks knowingly. "That's what I thought."

"Is this really your attempt at making me understand why you almost _killed_ me?" he questions incredulously. "Because let me stop you right there_—_I get it, you're a vampire, you hold no attachment to human life and you're willing to send everything crashing to the ground as long as you get your way. You're a _monster_. How am I doing so_—_"

He's cut off by her fingers wrapping around his throat and Rebekah's fangs an inch from his face. He makes a futile attempt and grabs at her hand, his lungs fighting for oxygen as his eyes take in her disheveled and aggrieved appearance. She releases him and is standing in the corner of his room before he can blink.

"Four of my six brothers are _dead_. As are my parents. Kol is god-knows-where. You know who that leaves?" she asks sardonically, and his heart clenches in fear at the thought of the oldest Original while he battles with his conscience to not show sympathy for all that she's lost_. _"Elijah is the only thing I have left and I will not let anything jeopardize his safety. Not Alaric, not you, not a_ thing_,"she emphasizes, eyes filling with tears.

She reminds him so much of Caroline with her fierce loyalty and thinly-veiled insecurities, and he kind of hates himself for wanting to wrap his arms around her and tell her he understands.

He saves himself the confusion and saves her the comfort by staying silent and hoping that his eyes convey a message he's not really sure he means anymore_—I hate you_. He can't really regard this woman with malice; despite the havoc she's wreaked on the lives of his friends and himself, she always finds some way to justify her actions_—_be it emotionally or otherwise.

That's all Rebekah is_—_justifiable wrongdoings and a loose cannon wrapped up in what he hates to admit is an extremely hot package.

He's forced out of his reverie when he hears the door open.

"I never meant to hurt you. You were just caught in the crossfire," she warrants, and _damn_, why does her voice sound so genuine? He gives no sign of having heard her, and he tries to ignore the way her shoulders slump from his peripheral vision. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're alright."

The door closes behind her and he falls back into his pillow.

He can't help but wonder whether she'll be okay. Losing a sibling sucks_—_been there, done that_—_and she's lost two brothers in the span of two months. Remorse settles in the pit of his stomach when he remembers the fact that Finn died by his hand.

Matt groans. How is it possible that she's the one that drove him off a bridge into the nearest encounter with death he's ever had, and he's the one who wants to apologize?

His morality is so fucked up.

He makes a mental note to stop hanging out with vampires.


End file.
